"Poor girl."
"What will she do without her mother now?"
"She has no relatives, no husband… no protector."
"Probably end up as someone's mistress to put food on the table."
That last comment sent a spike of anger through Eric. His fingers curled. The idea of Sera—his Sera, even though he hadn't earned the right to think of her that way—
His vision sharpened. The world smelled clearer. His heartbeat synced with the storm.
He told himself to stay still. To stay hidden. To let her go home with her friends and mourn in peace.
But his legs—traitorous, disobedient—began moving forward of their own volition.
Eric felt his feet break through the muddy ground, step after step, each one weighted with danger. He didn't know what he was doing—no, that wasn't even true. He did know. He knew exactly what this was.
It was instinct.
Whatever was pulling him toward her now would be a mistake. A monumental, irreversible, destiny-altering mistake.
